


You Can Run

by teakturn



Series: The Devil's Keeper [2]
Category: John Wick (Comics), John Wick (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - John Wick (Movies) Setting, Angst and Feels, Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassination Attempt(s), Assassins & Hitmen, Black Character(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Femme Fatale, Hurt/Comfort, Mentor/Protégé, Pining, Possibly Pre-Slash, Possibly Unrequited Love, Ruska Roma (John Wick)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-13
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-12-14 05:03:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21010181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teakturn/pseuds/teakturn
Summary: "You're feeling better," John sighs and turns the page.Olympia shrugs, and her freshly shaved pussy brushes against his front, "You're the only one who thought I was sick,"He shot her a look, a lot of people had seen her breakdown. It was probably known the world over about her breakdown at this point. She hadn't been subtle about it. Still, Olympia didn't care about civilians seeing her break, they didn't matter. There was only one opinion that mattered to her beyond her own."If you're feeling well I should head back."Olympia snatched the book out of his hands and threw it across the room, "Why did you even come!"





	You Can Run

**Author's Note:**

> *Do not steal or repost my work*

Olympia will admit, she was a bit of a drama queen about it all. After her declaration, Olympia wanted nothing more than to sink into sweet oblivion. John wouldn't let her. Instead, he bathed her, bulldozed her into brushing her teeth and then tucked her into bed. That night John fed her water and pills and cleaned up her apartment while she slept. By the time Olympia woke up, at eight o'clock that evening, her living room had been put to rights. The alcohol in her kitchen was gone, as was the stash of cocaine she'd definitely forgot about.

He stayed, to Olympia's admitted disbelief he stayed. A week after her breakdown and he was still there when she woke up. Every morning.

He made her eat, watching her like a hawk until her plate was clean and her bottle of water empty. Olympia thought she should be unnerved with how closely he watched her but ultimately she was a selfish, vain creature. She knew he had a fiancée back home yet Olympia didn't care. This was the first time in years she had him all to herself. 

He didn't ask about the tattoos on her skin because he already knew. The Ruska Roma asked you to pay the price in several ways, and these tattoos had been a badge of honor and a brand. He didn't ask, but he stared. To test him, Olympia switched from the simple, plain pajamas John had begun taking out for her, to the sexier pieces in her wardrobe.

John didn't react at all. He made sure she ate, kept her occupied with chess and sparring sessions in the gym in her apartment building. Anything to fill the day so Olympia won't default back to the bottle. He deflects any questions dealing with her drunken revelation. He doesn't ask about what they did to her because of their fear of him.

But best of all, he doesn't mention his soon to be wife.

  


One night, two weeks after her breakdown, John is sitting on her ugly, orange modern couch. He's reading in a comfortable pair of flannel pajama pants and a simple white t-shirt. Olympia feels a spark of anger at the sight of his bare feet up on her couch, but she bats it away. With all the grace beat into her, she sauntered into the living room wearing nothing but the necklace John had given her on her 18th birthday.

John's eyes lift from his book lazily, he assesses her for a moment, then he returns to reading his book. Olympia isn't deterred. She prowls to the man on the couch with a single-minded focus only hesitating when she has to pull off some tricky maneuvering to sit on John's lap.

Facing him Olympia can study his features freely. She'd known he was handsome, but that was just his outer layer. This close she could see the beast inside him, leashed but not contained. She wonders if The Woman has seen the Beast. She wonders if she's the one who leashed him.

"You're feeling better," John sighs and turns the page. 

Olympia shrugs, and her freshly shaved pussy brushes against his front, "You're the only one who thought I was sick,"

He shot her a look, a lot of people had seen her breakdown. It was probably known the world over about her breakdown at this point. She hadn't been subtle about it. Still, Olympia didn't care about civilians seeing her break, they didn't matter. There was only one opinion that mattered to her beyond her own.

"If you're feeling well I should head back."

Olympia snatched the book out of his hands and threw it across the room, "Why did you even come!"

John gave her a look that made her feel like a child. Olympia snarled and wrenched herself from his lap. Anger came so easily to her now. She'd never realized how much she'd kept inside her until she stopped giving a fuck.

She'd been trained for one thing and now that was gone. She had the skills to continue in this life but what was the fucking point? Was Olympia good at killing, well yes actually she was. The only thing holding her back was the fact that she was freelance. And as the future weapon against John Wick, she'd had to be freelance.

Olympia had to be alone to kill the only person who didn't make her feel lonely.

"O," Suddenly John was there, his arms came around her and pulled her close. Olympia realized she was crying when she brushed her face against what had to be the softest shirt in the world. When he guided her head to the crook of his neck she noticed that she was shaking.

John cradled Olympia close and for the first time in her entire life, she felt safe. He smelled like Home, though she'd never had one to speak of. Gunpowder, leather, coffee. She didn't fight his hold on her. In fact, she allowed herself to squeeze closer. She'd have stayed in his arms forever if some instinct didn't have her tensing up.

Olympia couldn't be sure, she didn't hear anything to make her think they were no longer alone, but there was someone outside her front door. John tensed up too. Instinctively he began to shift her behind him. As if she hadn't spent years training to defend herself just like him.

"Go put something on," John urged her quietly, his eyes had gone predator sharp and were studying their surroundings.

Olympia didn't pay attention, she was too focused on locating a weapon and her hair tie. Her nakedness had never hindered her in a fight and her body, despite her bender, was still in peak physical shape. Her hair was actually a liability and she refused to cut it so, up it went. John spared a curious glance at Olympia when she crossed the room to pounce on the hair tie just under her couch.

She hit the floor as the first shot rang out, hitting the wall where Olympia's head would have been had she not ducked so suddenly. The crash of broken glass sent John diving out of the way while Olympia refocused her mind on finding cover _and_ a hair tie.

"Oh! Gotcha!" Behind her, she could hear glass breaking and the sound of John's grunts growing farther away as he fought on the balcony.

Olympia rolled on the floor, snatching the hair tie up and wrapping it twice around her mane all in one movement. She could see shadows on her balcony, six maybe. If she didn't count John. Olympia rolled her eyes. Really, they sent six guns and maybe a sniper to what? Take her out?

Aware of the possibility of a sniper Olympia rolled towards her kitchen. Under the sink, there was a knife, a gun, and three throwing stars. She ignored the throwing stars, only because she didn't have a place to store them, put the knife in her mouth and quickly loaded the gun.

Silence settled over the apartment. John was nowhere to be found. Olympia strained her ears, she couldn't hear anything or anyone, not even on the balcony. Olympia took a breath and focused her senses.

The penthouse was an open concept apartment. There was little to no places for cover unless you ducked behind furniture, which put you directly in the sightlines of her floor to ceiling windows. Every wall dividing the rooms was made of glass ranging from opaque to perfectly see-through. She'd put luxurious white curtains on the glass walls dividing her bedroom from the rest of the house. 

This was how Olympia saw the first intruder. He was broad-shouldered, her stance told her military but that could mean anything. John had been in the military and had broken that straight-backed, clipped gait, from his body language long before Olympia ever learned to look for it. At least she knew the guy had some training. It was boring fighting people were relied on brute strength alone and not skill.

Olympia watched him quietly two-step his way into the house. A turn of his head had him glancing towards the balcony, but he turned away just as quickly.

_So_, Olympia thought,_ either he's with the dead men on the balcony or he doesn't know about them and is too stupid to go out and check._

When he nears her hiding spot, Olympia sets the gun on the floor next to her and feels the calm, cool-headed, mindlessness she'd learned from ballet settle over her mind. She dropped the knife from her mouth to her hand with one smooth movement that ends with her rising to her feet. Rising too fast to be tracked, Olympia caught the soldier by his neck and wrenched down before he could react to the sudden assault. The knife goes into his wrist which made him reflexively let go of the gun. One brutal yank to his neck later and it's done. Her body knew what had to be done and how to do it, Olympia only had to let it have its way. 

Threat neutralized. Carefully, Olympia drags his body behind the counter with her.

She checks his pockets, his weapon, and his face just in case she knows him. Never met him before in her life, but she's pleased to see from his knuckle tattoos that this is a gang-related hit. It was bound to happen sooner or later. Like John, Olympia was a Beast without a master. And while John was choosing to leave the game entirely, Olympia was still a major threat to be reckoned with.

Olympia took out two more men from her little behind the counter position but had to use her gun while putting down the third. She could hear the sound of fists connecting, grunts of pain, and then, all at once, the sound of glass cracking and shattering as a body flew threw the balcony doors.

The noise and commotion distract the two hired guns following after their downed teammates. Olympia uses this to her advantage. Two bullets later, she's pivoting and shooting at a figure clad in black rushing through the broken balcony window. When they go down Olympia turns to the struggling bodies covered in glass on her floor.

Just as she's about to intervene John snaps the man's neck with an animalistic grunt.

  


It's so quiet once all the men who'd come after her are downed. Her neighbors had no doubt heard the gunshots but Olympia wasn't worried. She was done with this place as soon as John walked in. She could never live here after he left and now, thanks to the dead guys, she had no choice but to leave.

"There'd been six out on the balcony," Olympia hasn't realized she was panting for breath. Peak physical shape she may be but Olympia felt winded. 

"That was five," John pointed at the body at their feet, "You shot six," wearily he waved a hand towards the balcony. Olympia guessed the other four found their way to ground level the fast way. Sirens wailed from the streets below. So at least the bodies would be taken care of.

"I took out three from my position in the kitchen, another two at the entryway." Olympia casually approached the body she'd stabbed with her knife and yanked it free. She wiped it clean on the dead guys' shirt and studied the blade for any chips or dings.

"Question is, were they here for you…." John made his way into the kitchen carefully, his bare feet had taken a beating with all the glass on the floor. She made a sympathetic noise that made him smile even as he limped to her position.

Olympia patted the countertop when he was near and went in search of her first aid kit, "They were here for me" 

"Because of me?"

"No." Olympia took a pair of tweezers from the kit and beckoned John's foot towards her. He placed the heel of one foot in her palm and waited for her to continue.

"Because of my mission, I couldn't join a gang. I don't know who all knows about my orders but I couldn't afford to have any allegiances conflict with my overall purpose."

Olympia was spared from looking John in the eyes as she spoke plainly about her assassination attempt. It likely wouldn't be the last and focusing on carefully extracting glass from the cuts on John's foot was better than thinking of the time she was wasting here. _How many people knew she lived in this apartment? How many people wanted her dead?_ Olympia had been careful with cultivating her reputation in their world, but there was always the chance she'd rubbed someone the wrong way. But enough to kill her?

"Killing me," John confirmed. He made no noise or grimace so if he was feeling pain Olympia couldn't tell. He was annoyed though, that she could hear in his voice.

Olympia made a questioning noise to get him to explain.

"Gangs don't trust high powered freelancers. Too many variables and it leads to conflict-"

"Messes," Olympia added.

John smiled that funeral smile, "Yes, it creates a mess that's a hassle to clean up."

Olympia smirked, she understood that completely. "I'm a mess now. Now that you're no longer a threat. I am," John tried to say that wasn't true but Olympia wouldn't let him. "Think about it, it's easy to build a bomb during a war. But once the war is over, you still have a bomb on your hands. And isn't it easier to make a new bomb later on, than risk the bomb you already have going off during peacetime?"

  


She finished retrieving the glass from John's feet. Disinfected and bandaged them both, then spent ten minutes she didn't have gathering weapons and money for her escape.

And clothes, through all this drama she'd definitely forgotten about her nakedness.

"Do you have a location in mind?" John asked. He'd been silent while Olympia had packed away her life in one bag and most of her weapons in another bag. John, who hadn't fully unpacked his bag anyway, had taken post at her shattered front door with his gun drawn. 

Together they'd used the stairs to walk down to the ground floor of her building. After that Olympia only had half-formed ideas that didn't lead anywhere but her eventual death.

"I don't know who all has a contract on my life," Olympia answered honestly.

"The Director…" John suggested. Olympia could tell he didn't really mean it though. So she snorted and shot him a look. John smiled back. He got it.

"I don't think they expected you to be there. Not that it helped their cause anyway. They were deadmen the second they accepted the job." 

"A...boyfriend then?" John suggested. They'd reached the lower levels of her building. They were making good time but Olympia's internal clock was ticking. They wouldn't have long before the next set of assassins showed up.

Olympia sent a smirk towards John, "Don't you know? I've been in love with you since I was sixteen years old,"

John shot her a look but it was indecipherable. Olympia carried on in the same amused, casual tone, "Never had a boyfriend. Couldn't risk it in case you finally came to your senses and came after me."

John's face didn't shift from that unreadable expression. Olympia looked away, they were one more landing from the ground floor.

"There is someone who might take me in."

  


When they finally reach the ground level the streets and sidewalks are clogged with gawkers and first responders. Olympia approached one of the uniformed men standing near two cars with body-sized dents and slipped him a coin for his trouble. The man eyed it, then discreetly slipped it into his pocket.

"There are more bodies upstairs," Olympia nods her head towards the building. Then she turns to where John is standing on the street looking around with those hawk eyes for any threats.

It takes them more time than they should to reach the dungeon and after a tense, five-minute wait in a back alley they're let in. It's not someone she recognizes but they recognize her immediately. They also eye John suspiciously, buy Olympia doesn't allow them time to tell her he can't come in..

"He's with me," Olympia states before they can suggest he hang back. She flips a gold coin between her fingers and the glint of the metal catches their eye immediately.

They're escorted in shortly after, Olympia's gold coin now in the other guys' possession. He leads them through a narrow twisting hallway, up a flight of rickety stairs, and then deposits them backstage.

"Li Gun is busy, he'll be with you in a moment."

  


Olympia allowed herself to relax. The dungeon had been a frequent haunt of hers during her John Wick induced bender the month before. She'd known Li Gun, a Korean weapons master, and club owner, for far longer. She'd told him, hormone drunk after a scene, that she was made to kill the only man she'd ever loved. 

He'd made all the right sympathetic noises and told her to put his cock in her mouth. Olympia wasn't entirely sure Li Gun cared about John Wick or the Ruska Roma or any of the politics and bullshit that run so much of this life. He had his dungeon and his weapons, his own little kingdom so to speak.

While Olympia relaxed John paced the room. Not because he was anxious though. Olympia could see his long fingers searching under the sides of discarded tables and chairs for weapons. His eyes scanned the usual spots for cameras or peepholes. When his search left him empty-handed, John turned to regard Olympia curiously.

"A dungeon?" One of his eyebrows cocked up and this amused smirk slid across his mouth.

Olympia rolled her eyes, "I'm a glutton for punishment, I guess,"

They both shared a too short laugh that left them staring into each other's eyes. They were searching for something. Olympia knew what she was looking for but she couldn't begin to think of what John was searching for. It didn't take long for him to speak up though.

"You say you love me-"

"I do," Olympia interrupted, "And I know you're going to say I'm building you up into some hero in my head for getting me off the street or something stupid like that."

John shrugged, wordlessly conveying "can you blame me" with one movement. Olympia sighed.

"Look, I'm not an idiot. You're getting married, you're leaving the life because you want to know that you're still good for something beyond all…" Olympia shrugged, "The killing and espionage. But I'm not like you,"

She waved a hand in the general direction her old apartment had been, "I'm good at this. I don't enjoy it, no, but I'm not sickened at my ability to do it. And while I'm thankful for you even giving me the time of day, you did not create the monster I've become."

Olympia looked away from John's face, which was doing all sorts of things to the pit of her stomach, "I learned all about your work during my training. I was beat to a bloody pulp more than once to prepare me for the eventuality of me ending your life. If anything I should hate you but,"

"But you love me." John intoned quietly. He'd approached during Olympia's speech and now stood close enough to pull into a hug. 

"Would you have killed me, when the time came?"

Olympia smiled, "Yeah, in my own way."

John smiled back, "In your own way?"

"I read somewhere that the French call orgasms little deaths," Olympia meets John's eyes and for the first time she doesn't just see a leashed beast, she sees heat and hunger. They really were standing so close together.

"I planned on doing something dramatic, planting bodies. Maybe an explosion. Then I'd take you somewhere remote and give you as many little deaths as I could." Olympia's voice had gone husky without her permission. 

John placed a hand on the wall beside her head, "And I was just going to go along with all this?"

Olympia smiled through the haze of lust in her mind, "There was rope involved."

"Why didn't I kill you?"

Olympia licked her lips, noticing when his eyes dropped from her own to track the movement, "Because it's me."

  


Footsteps approached their position and John smoothly backed away from Olympia. Their eyes remained locked on one another a second before a tall, lanky Asian man stepped into view. It took Olympia more seconds than she'd like to admit to switch gears and put on the persona that was expected of her.

Pasting on a sultry smile, Olympia switched her posture into something more cat-like. She sauntered towards Li Gun until their chests pressed together, then pecked him on his cheek oh so slowly.

"Olympia," Li Gun breathed, visibly affected by her show. 

"Gunnie," Olympia intoned. Without looking over her shoulder she said, "We need a place to stay for a few days. Then I'm going to be out of the country for…" she paused to search for the right word. To keep Li Gun distracted she played with the buttons on his shirt.

"Business or," his tone hardened, "Or pleasure?"

"Now don't be jealous," Olympia teased. Li Gun had always been possessive of her which is why she never allowed him to get it into his head that they had any future together. He was cute and a fantastic lay but she knew he only enjoyed her as she was. Olympia had decided a long time ago that she'd be a terrible wife.

"And you," Li Gun calls to John, "Do you need my protection too?"

Olympia doesn't turn to see John's expression when he answers. She wonders what he thinks of her, simpering and seductive like this. She'd tried her hand at seducing him earlier, and as far as she could tell he'd been unaffected.

"I'm John," there was a pause and then he added, "I go where she goes."

Olympia smiled up at Li Gun, "So it's settled then,"

"I thought you said no boyfriend." John's not asking, the words come out like warm water. A blank statement.

Olympia spares him a glance, "Gunnie isn't a boyfriend he's an asset." She's been cycling through alias' built years ago, testing them out and deciding if she liked the way they felt. Olympia told herself to be practical and yet ...The name Duchess just called to her.

It was hours after her ambush. Li Gun had set them up in her old playroom, with a guard stationed at the door that was highly unnecessary but Olympia didn't protest. The argument wasn't worth it and she rather liked having so powerful a man at her beck and call. 

John had totally ignored the bed in favor of checking for bugs, weapons, and access points. Olympia left him to it, she was focused on extracting her hair without pulling most it from her scalp, and regrouping. She couldn't be Olympia Johnson anymore that was for sure. Few people knew of her life before the Ruska Roma but the price on her head would only grow.

"I met him," Olympia spoke into the silence, "At a club while on a job. For your old boss actually," she pulled the hair tie free with a sigh of relief. Moaning, Olympia stuck her fingers into her roots and massaged her scalp.

"So I'm there, I have a shoot at 6 am the next morning so I just want to get in and get out." Olympia opens her eyes to find John standing just behind her with an intense expression on his face.

Their eyes meet in the mirror and there, she sees it. The beast in him is pacing. It's not unleashed, yet, but that surge of adrenaline after the kill is beginning to fade. In Olympia's experience, a crash like that can only be sated by two things. A delicious meal or sex. Olympia had always known John to prefer a meal, but she'd basically been a child to him. Why would he eat a meal with her after a kill instead of seeking out someone to fuck?

"And my mark is talking with Gunnie. It turns out it's _his_ club! The mark wanted to ..." Olympia smirked, "Let's say adopt, a deal Tasarov had going with Gunnie to start his expansion to China. He hadn't had any luck so far and you know how it is back home."

Back in New York, where John had found her, the city had been carefully divvied up among various gangs that didn't really enjoy even the idea of new people honing in on their territories. Some of the oldest families and crews in crime had gone belly up because the next guy was faster, more brutal, and more enterprising than them. It was work to rise up where so many other people had staked a claim. Going overseas seemed easier in comparison.

John politely nudges Olympia's hands out of her hair and took over the scalp massage. He makes a low, guttural sound for her to continue that does everything _but_ relax her. Olympia checks to see if he knows he has her wet and shivering just from a sound, but his face is yet again unreadable.

"So," Olympia sighs so that she won't moan, "I get Gunnie's attention immediately and then I fake him out and start flirting with the mark. I've got both of them pretty much in the palm of my hand but I miscalculated."

Olympia reaches, blindly for the nearby drawer in her vanity and pulls out a spray bottle, a brush, and some hair oil she kept stashed in all her little hideaways. John wordlessly begins untangling her hair. Olympia helped him part, but other than that he takes over the task.

The familiar way his fingers work through the knots takes her back to one of their visits while she was with the Ruska Roma. The beatings were bad back then. But she still had to dance, and she couldn't show up to rehearsal with nappy hair all over the place. She had bruises on her bruises and a sprained wrist so she'd asked him, in a moment of complete weakness, to help her out. John had spent that visit carefully untangling her hair, following Olympia's teary instruction.

"Gunnie snapped and killed my mark right in front of me." Olympia chuckled. John's hands stilled in her hair and their eyes met in the mirror, "I know! Next thing I know he's flipping a coin to the bouncer and the DJ and the party goes on. He caught my fancy and we'll leave it at that."

"Have you thought of what you're going to do when you can no longer hide?" Olympia handed John two hair ties and he dutifully pulled her tamed hair into two buns.

"I have to die,"

John paused and stared at her. Olympia grinned, "And you have to kill me.


End file.
